There's Something Wrong With Blaine
by GoddamnWrite
Summary: Finn is an easygoing guy who believes the best in everyone. But when Blaine Anderson begins to ingratiate himself into the Hudmels' lives, he can't ignore the strange events that occur. Just what exactly is wrong with Blaine? And can Finn save Kurt?
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Originally co-written mid season three with snicksness._

**There's Something Wrong With Blaine  
Chapter 1**

Finn Hudson's life was awesome. He had the girl of his dreams, he was quarterback again, his mom was happy and he had a new family. Everything was going great.

And then? Then there was Blaine.

Okay, yeah, sure. Blaine was nice and stuff and Kurt really liked him and he didn't even seem to mind that he dressed like a Nickeloedon presenter and sang _everything_. All that was totally cool but- there was something off about Blaine.

It had started off small, nothing too troubling, but it had stuck with Finn for some reason. Jarred him.

It had been three weeks since the first incident. Kurt had been pottering around in the kitchen, leaving Finn and Blaine alone to chat and drink their green tea latte and Nesquick milkshake respectively.

'Dude, you don't use coasters, either?' Finn had said in a conspirational whisper.

Blaine had looked up at him, a pleasant smile on his face. 'I guess not.'

'They're stupid! I hate them.' Finn shot a glance at Kurt's back, now busy chatting with Carole as he cut up the vegetables. 'But you should totally use one, or mom'll have a fit.'

'No.'

Finn blinked. 'I mean, she'll be really upset.'

'She'll be fine, I assure you.' Blaine continued to smile, his hands clasped neatly in his lap.'

'Haha yeah. But seriously, you should use a coaster.' Finn felt a stirring of irritation. Why the hell was he defending the damn things? It wasn't like he cared, except, there was totally going to be a liquid rim circle and that kind of sucked. Especially if he could have been the one to stop it. 'I'll get you one.'

'Nah.'

Finn could feel his temper rising now. 'Dude, it'll mark the table!'

'The table will be fine.'

'But-'

'Here, Blaine,' Kurt said appearing at his elbow. 'I got you a coaster.'

'Thank you, Kurt.' Blaine looked up at him, adulation on his face. 'I was just asking Finn where they were kept.'

'What the hell?' Finn looked back and forth between the two. 'No, you weren't.'

'Perhaps you should get Finn something to cool him down? His face looks a little red.' Blaine sipped at his tea demurely as Kurt rolled his eyes at Finn, and made his way back over to Carole.

'Hey! That was not cool,' said Finn with a glare.

Blaine seemed to consider this, his chin jutted out in concentration. Then his features settled back into that pleasant countenace. Slender fingers cupped round the mug, lifting it and placing it to the side.

Off the coaster onto the table.

Kurt hadn't seemed to think this was that big of a deal, even when Finn had shown him, Burt and Carole the green-tinged circle that had claimed the table. In fact, Kurt had got pretty damn pissed about it.

'Once again your latent homophobia raises its overlarge and empty head,' Kurt had said with a curl of his lip.

Burt had given Finn an odd look and advised perhaps Finn was too old to playing tattle tale and his mom had just ruffled his hair and told him that he'd get used to Blaine eventually. Even Rachel had thought Finn was overeacting. Everyone had. Except Puck.

'So, what? You don't like him?' Puck asked absently, flipping through Penthouse and marking his favourite pages for later.

'It's not- I mean,' Finn stopped, 'there's something…weird about him.'

'Oh? Ah, man. I know what this is. I was the same when this brat looked at Sarah once when I was picking her up from school. Punched that kid's lights right out.'

'Kurt's not a little sister, Puck. This is important!'

'Of course, then the police came round. "Why did you assault a minor, Mr. Puckerman", "He can't help the direction of his lazy eye, Mr. Puckerman", "He's only seven, Mr. Pu"—'

'It's not like that!' Finn flopped down onto the bed. 'The other day, he made me watch Grey's Anatomy!'

Finn waited for the scorn. The ridicule.

Puck suprised him.

'Dude,' said Puck slowly. 'You're serious?'

'Yeah,' whispered Finn. 'The one about Izzie and Alex's blossoming friendship.'

'That's like _all _of them.'

'And the Ethiopian tubes.'

Puck punched his palm. 'There's something wrong here!'

'I know, I told you!' said Finn, delighted. Finally, _someone _was taking him seriously.

Puck scratched his chin. 'But what do we do?'

'We watch him,' said Finn, determined. 'We watch him and we log stuff.'

'And then what? We send the fucking dossier to the university to test if he's evil?'

'Yes.'

Puck shrugged. 'Sounds legit.'

* * *

'It's a shame that your tyre blew out,' tutted Blaine, gripping the steering wheel.

'Yes,' muttered Finn. 'All four of them.'

'Remarkable coincidence.'

'Remarkable,' said Finn, scowling.

'It's a good thing I could give you a ride to school. You don't want to miss math!'

'I wouldn't mind, actually-'

'And don't you worry, Finnegans Wake-'

'_Finn_.'

'We'll have time to stop off for breakfast!' said Blaine cheerfully, squinting his eyes. It looked like a parody of a smile, but Finn had seen him pull that strange expression when singing, so he guessed it was cool.

'Thank God!' he said, relieved. 'I thought I was going to miss my sausage biscuit!'

Blaine immediately pulled a stricken face. 'Oh, no.'

'What's wrong?' he asked, perturbed.

'I'm afraid that on the Blaine Bus, we only serve _Starbucks_.'

'But I hate _Starbucks_!' protested Finn.

'The menus were printed out some time ago and have to go through our committee for any changes,' said Blaine. He gestured for Finn to open the glove compartment. 'Take one and see.'

Finn reluctantly extricated one of the cards from the tastefully-stencilled rubber band. In graceful script on a starched ivory background that would have made Patrick Bateman weep with envy, read the menu:

**_La voiture de Blaine Anderson_**

**pour commencer: petite vanilla bean scone**

**Plat principal: Strawberry and blueberry yoghurt parfait**

**Le café: A delectable choice of salted caramel mocha or spiced pumpkin latte**

'Dude,' he whispered, 'the fuck is this? I don't understand half of it.'

'It's the menu,' said Blaine, smiling. 'Also, swearing is forbidden in my car.'

'I don't want any of this! There's salt in the coffee!'

'In the mocha.'

'Look,' said Finn. He threw the card back into the glove compartment despite the disapproving glare from Blaine. 'That's nice and all, but I'll just get my sausage biscuit from _McDonalds_, you get your salt coffee and we'll be cool.'

Blaine sighed. 'Sure.'

'I'm glad we could-'

'Just write a letter to the committee today and we'll try and push it through. They'll give their decision within 48 hours, so if you hurry you can be enjoying your McDonalds food by Wednesday. Oh, look. We're here!' He stopped the car outside Starbucks. 'I suggest you order quickly. We have possibly three minutes before we get a ticket for parking here and I do so love to take my time with the chocolate sprinkles.'

* * *

_Today at 08:15 hours, Blaine made me drink coffee. Not even real coffee but something with like salt and that weird takeaway sauce in it. He smiled when I finished it so I was worrying he might have poisoned it and used the salt to disguise the taste of poison (unless the salt was the poison) then he smiled at a passing kid. He may possibly be thinking about bodysnatching kids. Must warn Puck._

'Finn,' said Mr. Schuester. 'Finn, we're trying to decide on which Journey song we're using this week. Your input would be nice.'

Finn looked up from his diary, blinking. 'Sorry, what?'

The other kids all stared at him.

'I think he's writing about me,' said Brittany. 'I can see that doodle in the margin-'

'No, that's me,' said Santana.

'Actually, it's Rachel!' said Finn indignantly.

Rachel looked down at her chest sadly. He felt bad, so made the curves bigger. She smiled in delight.

'You're- you're _doodling _when we have sectionals coming up in two weeks?' asked Schuester. 'I'm very disappointed in you, Finn. Blaine has had to step into your shoes and make every decision for the past couple of weeks because you can't be bothered.' He came over and stroked Finn's hair. 'What's wrong with you, champ?'

Blaine stood up and walked over. He gently removed Schue's hand from Finn's head and placed it behind his own head. 'There, that's better.'

Mr. Schuester smiled, rubbing Blaine's ear tenderly. 'He's amazing.'

'He sure is,' sighed Kurt happily.

'He's the greatest,' said Mike.

'I want him to stroke _my _ears,' said Brittany.

Santana cast her an annoyed look, then appeared to agree. 'He should stroke _both_our ears,' she decided. 'At the same time.'

'Hot,' whispered Brittany.

Finn looked to Rachel. 'Ate too, Brute?'

Rachel shrugged. 'Have you heard him on that Keane song? I cried, Finn. I _cried_.'

'But you always cry,' he reasoned.

Rachel wasn't listening. She stared at Blaine, who smiled at her then turned to Finn, his smile slipping off his face. 'Join us, Finn.'

He set his jaw. 'Never.'

'You don't want to join us in this group number?' asked Mike. 'Why are you being so unreasonable, Finn?'

'But it's weird!' snapped Finn. 'I don't think it's going to work for sectionals!'

'Please,' said Rachel. 'It's a great choice by Blaine. _O Fortuna_is a classic.'

'I can't understand why you like the choreography!' said Finn. 'It's just us holding Blaine aloft on our shoulders.'

Blaine shrugged. 'Guys, we have to make allowances for Finn.'

'He's only just learning to write,' said Kurt.

To Finn's horror, everyone laughed. He was mustering himself to give a snappy comeback when Puck burst into the room, eyes wild, mohican in disarray. 'Finn!' he gasped. 'Finn! I have something to tell you!'

Finn jumped up from his chair, clutching his logbook tightly. As he hurried from the room, he shot a glance back and was chilled to the bone at the darkness in Blaine's eyes. The other boy stood staring at him, with Schuester curled at his feet.

Finn ran.

* * *

Puck looked furtively around the lockers, checking that they were alone. He patted Finn down.

'Dude, what the hell?'

'Sorry. I just see them do that in cop shows a lot, so I thought...'

'I'm on your side!'

'That's what they always say and then they're wearing a wire.' He flicked his head. 'I need you to crouch.'

'What? No!' Finn shoved him away. 'Why would I be taping this conversation, you dick?'

'I've seen your TiVO. You'll record anything.'

'I'm not wearing a wire, for fuck's sake! Will you just tell me what you have to tell me? And if it's just about the wire, I'm punching you in the chest.'

'It's not just the wire,' said Puck. 'I did some research.'

'Right.'

'Really cool research, like they do in films. I even went to the library.'

'Right.'

'And I got lost in the Painful Lives section, which was really traumatic. So I asked the librarian to help me solve the mystery.'

'Y-you asked the goddamn librarian?' spluttered Finn.

'Chill! She was totally into it. And me, I mean after she had her hearing aid turned on.' Puck waggled his brows. 'GILF, yeah?'

'Will you just-' Finn clutched at his hair. 'What did you find out about Blaine?'

'Well, you know that gay boarding school that Blaine came from? I told her to like Google it and stuff and you know what she found?'

'No, I don't know. Because you're taking a decade to tell me.'

'I'm setting the scene!' Puck leant forward. 'There _is no Dalton_!'

'What- What? There totally is! We competed against them! And Kurt went to school there, Puck!'

'That's what I thought. So I went to the place, you owe me gas money for that by the way, and that's when I saw it. An old abondoned building, man. All ramshackle and shit. And I found this sign.' Puck leant even closer and Finn took a step back as Puck's forehead grazed his chin. 'It said-'

'Can you switch off the flashlight? It's daytime.'

'For god's sake. Talk about killing the damn moment!' Puck flicked off the switch and removed the flashlight from under his jaw. 'It said Dalton Academy... home for the criminally insane!'

'What?'

'I know, right?' Puck gave an excited clap, then frowned at his hands and shoved them into his pockets. 'Apparently it closed down in 1978. For mysterious reasons.'

'Like what?'

'Er, abestos or something.'

'That's not that mysterious.'

'I feel that you're missing a lot of points here.'

'But- but all the kids there! The teachers! Where did they all come from?'

Puck shrugged. 'Maybe they were ghosts. Or zombies.'

'Don't be ridiculous! Zombies aren't real.'

'That's what you're getting from this?'

'I don't want to discuss our zombie escape plan right now. Put the diagram away. The point is, Blaine's like... like David Blaine or something!'  
They stared at each other.

'No fucking way,' gasped Puck. 'They're brothers.'

'Blaine Blaine, though.' Finn bit his lip. 'Really?'

'Cousins,' decided Puck. 'He has that strange look but his face is a bit more normal. Yeah, cousins.'

'Dude,' said Finn, grinning. 'We've solved the mystery.'

'What now?' asked Puck.

He frowned. 'I'll confront Blaine about this tomorrow morning. He's going to some recital with Kurt tonight, so I don't want to blow it all up yet.'

'Cool. And ask him to teach you some magic tricks.'

'I _will_.'

* * *

It was hard to get to sleep that night. Finn's dreams were troubled: he kept dreaming of elevators crushing people and David Blaine in a perspex box, staring at him hungrily. Then he looked away, and back, and there was Blaine in the box. Smiling.

He sat up in bed, gasping.

Just a dream.

He watched the shadows creeping across the room, then picked up his cell and checked the time. 4:48am. _Great._

He lay back down in bed and attempted to go back asleep. He needed his wits about him for the morning. He had practised his speech so many times: _Blaine, I want to talk with you. It's about magicians. Ha! Yes, we know all about you._ He'd be kind. After all, Kurt still loved the little freak and stuff. _I just really want you to start using coasters and if you could stop giving me salt coffee, that'd be neat. We can be friends and stuff. And also, if you ever hurt Kurt, I'm going to fuck you up, Harry Potter powers or not._

And then he'd make overtures of friendship: _Do you have any good card tricks?_

It'd be great. Everything would be fine and beautiful and nothing would-

There came a tapping.

'Like someone's rapping,' he thought in horror.

Rapping at his window.

'Son of a whore!' he gasped, shock crashing through him. For hanging upside down outside his window, was none other than Blaine.

He backed away from the apparition, gasping in horror. He fell off the edge of the bed and continued to back away. Then he remembered that he was bigger than Blaine, and Finn Hudson, the jock, and rose shakily to his feet. 'Stop hanging off my window or I'm gonna punch you!' he shouted.

From the next room there came weak little fists banging on the wall. 'Shut up, Finn!'

'Hush, Kurt. I got this!' He walked over to the window, where Blaine remained hanging upside-down, smiling. 'Fuck off, Blaine! Get off my window!'

Blaine winked at him.

He punched the window. 'Get-off-my-window!'

Blaine shook his head slowly. Damnit! This was worse than the coaster incident. But- This was it! This was proof! If Kurt could see that Blaine was a creepy weirdo that creeped he'd so dump him and everything would be back to normal!

'Kurt! Kurt!' Finn said backing away, his eyes locked on Blaine. 'You need to see this!'

For a moment, Finn thought Kurt had decided to ignore him and go back to sleep but then he appeared in the doorway, sleep mask in hand and an angry expression on his face. 'Look, I told you, you need to clean your own sheets-'

'It's Blaine!'

Kurt blinked. 'You- you dreamed about Blaine?'

'Oh, no, gross. Well, kinda. But his cousin. Or maybe not his cousin because he is like, possibly Dracula now or something.'

Kurt stared. 'You woke me up to witness your psychotic break?'

'Dude, if you would-'

'No, Finn! _You're_ going to listen to _me_. You've been horrible to Blaine since he started at McKinley, and once again it's all about _your_feelings, never mind how it's cutting me up to see my brother and my boyfriend at each other's throats! And it's all your fault, because Blaine's tried with you, he really has! He even took you for coffee and you act like it was torture!'

'The salt, Kurt!'

'I don't want to hear about the salt for the hundreth time!' Kurt snapped. He slapped his hands together. 'I don't know what your problem is but it has to stop. Did you ever think how hard this is for Blaine? It was a huge step for him to leave the protection of Dalton!'

'About that-'

'What is going on with you, Finn! You've been distant with Rachel, slacking off in glee club and this being constantly rude to my boyfriend is too much! Do you even care about my feelings? At all?'

Finn clutched his fists in frustration as Kurt railroaded on. He shot a glance towards the window.

Blaine waved.

'Dude, will you just look!' cried Finn, pointing at the window.

'I will not legitimise your stupid attempts at sidetracking this argument!' snapped Kurt.

'Dude! He's making hand gestures at you! Rude ones!'

'What? Who? You are such an idiot, Finn!'

At a loss, Finn grabbed him and hauled him bodily over to the window. 'Look, Kurt!'

'There's nothing out there,' said Kurt, scowling.

Finn pulled him aside and stared out of the window. There was no sign of Blaine.

'But- but I _saw _him!' Finn whimpered. 'He was here, Kurt. Blaine He was hanging, like, upside down and- I don't understand.'

'Finn, maybe you're sick,' said Kurt worriedly. 'Just get some sleep, okay?'

'Yeah...' he muttered, unwilling to argue any further. 'Maybe- maybe it was a cheese dream?

'Do you want some warm milk?' Kurt asked gently.

'With cinnamon?'

'Yes,' said Kurt, patting his shoulder. 'With cinnamon.'

Finn sank down onto the bed. 'I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm really- I don't want to fight.'

'I know,' said Kurt. 'Look, let's just forget it. I'll get your milk. Don't worry, Finn.'

Finn placed his head in his hands as Kurt left the room. God, he must really must be losing it. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all this. And come on, Puck, had been the one to go and check on Dalton. _Puck_! He probably got lost and ended up in the theater or something.

Finn curled up into the comforter and laid back. Maybe after he had his talk with Blaine everything would go back to normal. He had a lot of apologising to do.

* * *

Finn groaned and blinked in the harsh sunlight. He glanced at his alarm clock: 10am. He'd slept in, though he'd left the window uncovered so he could keep a watch on it. God, his head throbbed. Maybe Kurt was right; maybe he was coming down with something. Blaine might possibly be evil, but he couldn't _levitate._

He staggered out of bed, moving to the window to close the curtains and get some more sleep. May as well use it as an excuse to stay in bed till dinner.

He stopped midway through pulling the curtain across, suddenly awake, his mouth dropping open in terror.

A thick layer of hair gel, like a slug's trail, glistened across the window pane.


	2. Chapter 2

**There's Something Wrong With Blaine  
Chapter 2**

'I can't believe that it didn't work,' Finn muttered, stalking across Puck's bedroom.

'Maybe it wasn't holy enough?' Puck said as he strummed at the string of his guitar lazily.

'Are you kidding? I said, like, a million prayers in that thing. I even dunked in a Taylor Swift album. Trust me, that was one holy slushee,' Finn ceased his pacing and let out a disgruntled sigh. 'And now both Rachel and Kurt are pissed at me, I'm suspended from the team and I owe my mom fifteen bucks for a new Taylor Swift album.'

Puck played a few chords, his brows furrowed in thought. 'Listen, dude, are you-'

'Yes! He's a vampire, okay! He has to be.' Finn hugged himself tight, a sudden chill kissing at the nape of his neck. 'He's definitely a vampire.'

'Vampyre,' Puck said solemnly. 'It's pronounced vampyre.'

'That's- dude, that's totally what I'm saying!'

Puck held up his hand. 'And yet I can't hear the Y,' he said whimsically.

'Why what?'

'What?'

'The Y.'

'The why?'

'What?'

'The why of what?'

'Why—' Finn threw up his hands in frustration. 'For fuck's- will you just listen to me, Puck! He- he sparkles.'

'What? Like that Cullen guy with the face like an iron?'

'Yes! Last week he got a shower at ours, right? And he came out sparkling and smelling like strawberries and—Oh, wait. Kurt does that sometimes, too.' Finn tapped his lip. 'Okay, the sparkling might be the body wash. I'll look into that. But, that doesn't mean he isn't a blood-sucking fiend from hell.'

'Then how come he can go around during the day and crap? Shouldn't he be one crispy fry by now?'

'Yeah, but iron face can do that, too. The douche.'

Puck watched him carefully. 'You Team Jacob or Edward, bro?'

'I am _not_having this debate again, Puck! Find me an answer!'

'Maybe we're out of answers. Maybe there is no answer!'

'There are always answers,' said Finn scornfully. 'It's just that we never know what they are.' He pounded his fist. 'We just need to try more things. Something more subtle than a holy slushee to the face. Oh! You got a crucifix?'

Puck stared at him.

'Or your mom or something?'

'Are you serious, man?'

Finn fluttered his hands at him. 'Okay, okay, I get it, you're not religious, geez. No need to be mean about it.'

Scowling, Puck didn't answer him. He shoved past his friend and reached for something on the desk.

'Look, I went back to the library and the old gal there gave me these.' Puck reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a collection of large and dust covered books. 'They always have these things in horror movies and that. This exactly what we need.'

'This is great!' Finn joined him on the bed, picking up one entitled **VAMPYRE **and trying to ignore Puck's pointing and raised brow. He turned to the first page.

Then the second.

Then the third.

'God, this is taking _forever.'_

'I know, right?' Puck slammed his own book shut. 'Know what we need?' He gave a slow smile. 'What do _Buffy, Veronica Mars_ and _Supernatural _have in common?'

'They should have been cancelled earlier?'

'Hot nerds.' Puck grabbed his shoulder, giving him a little shake. 'We need a hot nerd!'

'Oh? Oh! Like the red head chick from band camp? And, was it Mack or something? And-'

'Bobby.' Puck glanced off dreamily. 'Yeah.'

'Exac- wait, what?'

'Anyway, that's why we can't read this crap. We need a hot nerd to do it for us and then we go kick its ass.'

'Okay, okay.' Finn scratched at his chin. 'I have the perfect hot nerd! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

'Damn right, I am,' Puck pushed the book off his lap and leapt up. 'Let's go get him.'

'You really think she'll- wait, him? Don't you mean her?'

'Sure, of course I meant her. What the- Clearly, I meant _her_. Like, dude.' Puck hastily began doing bench presses. 'Gotta get me to the gym. So I can bag a hot girl, not anything gay.'

'Oh-kay,' Finn said. 'Well, we'll see Tina and-'

'Tina! Of course! Tina's the _perfect _choice.'

'-see if she can help. She's probably a Wiccan or something.'

Puck nodded, adjusting his groin and letting loose a belch. 'Maybe we can swing by Artie's on the way, though,' he said as they left the room. 'Just to say hi?'

* * *

Tina frowned and stared at Puck again. 'I'm sorry. Say that again?'

'He didn't mean it like that,' began Finn. 'You're not weird.'

'Dude,' said Puck, 'I got this.' He slicked back his Mohawk. 'It's just that you understand all weird crazy shit and I think we got us a real load of crazy shit. You know, like Wicker.'

'Wiccan.'

'Babe, I'm pretty sure it was called the Wicker Man.'

'It was,' she said acidly.

'I know,' said Puck. He tapped his head. 'Whole lotta useless facts stored in ol' Puckerman's head. And so we thought, _who do we know who's passably hot and a big ol' nerd._And we thought of you.'

'So will you help us?' asked Finn quickly.

'…No.'

* * *

'What's up with you?' whispered Rachel in Finn's ear. 'You've been so moody tonight.'

'I'm not moody,' he muttered moodily.

'Yes- yes, you are!' she protested. 'Everyone's noticed.'

He looked around the diner table. Sure enough, his family and That were staring at him. 'What?' he asked, shoving a buffalo wing into his mouth.

'You're not eating well, are you?' said Kurt.

'I've eaten , like, a bucket.'

'Oh my gosh,' said Rachel. 'Are you ill? Finn, you have to eat.'

'Stop it! So I only ordered one bucket! Leave me the hell alone-!'

Burt slapped his hand on the table. 'Finn, I know you're sick right now, but I won't have cussing in front of your mother.'

'I'm not sick! Look, look, I'll eat this whole goddam- uh… gosh-darn bird.'

'There's no need to,' said Carole, sniffing.

Blaine raised a hand to his chin and rested his head there. 'Go for it, son.'

'I'm not your son!'

'It's a figure of speech, you dolt!' said Kurt. 'Like you eating a bird.'

'I _will _eat the bird.'

'Sure.'

'All of it!'

'Even its beak?' said Blaine.

'Even its beak.'

Rachel began to sob. 'Finn! Its poor beak!'

'There isn't a god-gosh-darn beak!' he snapped.

'Real men don't need to eat birds to prove they're men,' said Burt, frowning.

'Yeah, after all, I could eat a bird, too,' said Blaine. 'I'm just comfortable in my masculinity.'

'I am!'

'Good for you.'

'Right!' said Finn. 'Right! You order a bird and we'll have an eat-off.'

Kurt wrinkled his nose. 'You're such a barbarian sometimes.'

'I'm inclined to agree,' said Rachel, hiccoughing in panic.

Blaine grinned. 'Come at me, Finn. Let's do this.'

'Blaine?' Kurt frowned and laced his fingers with Blaine's. 'We talked about this, remember. Don't let him rile you up.'

'Oh, come on, Kurt,' Blaine said, a teasing note in his voice. 'It's just a bit of fun. Isn't it, Finn?'

'Yeah,' Finn muttered, narrowing his eyes. 'Fun.'

'And I'm sure that—Oh, my Gosh! Is that Liza Minnelli over by the salad bar?' gasped Blaine.

Rachel spun around in her chair and threw Kurt to the floor. 'I saw her first! Liza! Liza, it's me! Your biggest fan!'

Burt shoved them both aside. 'Liza! Sing Cabaret!'

Finn hated _Cabaret_. And Liza Minnelli. And all that stupid stuff. He was on a mission. Just the two legs to go now and he'd show that stupid Blaine.

Grunting, he looked over at Blaine.

And froze.

Blaine's eyes, usually an inscrutable colour Kurt called 'hazel' but Finn called 'mud-brown and crap', seemed the very essence of black, taking in no light, reflecting nothing. Finn blinked in confusion.

'Watch this, Finnegan,' he positively hissed.

He lowered his head toward the table and pulled the chicken nearer. To Finn's horror, his jaw seemed to dislocate itself, opening impossibly wide, to swallow the entire chicken in one go. It lodged in his throat, like in all those cartoons Finn got up early to watch on Saturdays, and then he swallowed, crushing it with his neck muscles before the lump disappeared into his torso.

Finn whimpered.

'Now,' said Blaine. 'Who's the real man here?'

Finn mechanically reached out for a chicken wing, never taking his eyes from Blaine. He was dimly aware of his family - his precious, tender, _salty_family - returning to the table.

Burt growled. 'Well, that Japanese businessman will never forgive us for the football tackle.'

'I think he appreciated my outfit,' said Rachel. 'He gave me his card and hotel room key.' She frowned at her hand. 'What's loli?'

Carole shrieked in horror. 'Finn! Did you eat Blaine's chicken? You greedy boy!'

Finn glanced at her, swallowing in panic.

_Uh-oh_.

The chicken wing caught in his throat. He gagged and gasped as Rachel, ever the star, screeched in his ear and attempted to wrap her arms around his torso to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre. In the panicked rush as his family attempted to help him, as Burt grabbed him and patted his back so he could cough up the food, he could not take his eyes from Blaine.

He felt the chicken dislodge and, despite Carole's disgusted exclamation, he swallowed rather than spat it out. He snarled at Blaine as his nemesis slowly leaned forward to help him.

'Sit down, Blaine!'

Blaine sat back in his seat, affecting a hurt look. 'Calm down, Finlet.'

'My name's not Finlet-'

'Did you just tell Blaine to sit down?' hissed Kurt. 'Who the hell do you think you are?'

'Kurt, did you just cuss?' snapped Burt. 'Finn, you stop telling people to sit down! Kurt, you stop cussing! Blaine, you stand up or sit down, whatever you want.' He sat down in his own chair. 'I'm sitting down because I want to, by the way. Not because someone told me to.' He took a bite out of a buffalo wing, daring any of them to speak. Nobody did.

A tremble was settling over Finn's body and hysteria began to beat in a steady drum in his mind, begging to be let in. Wanting with all his being not to, his eyes met the other boy's, passing by the empty basket, rising past the thumb that was stroking at Kurt's knuckles in soft, soothing circles, past the throat that had taken on an entire bird like it was a crumb and to his face. That evil, souless face.

Slowly, Blaine smiled. And licked his lips.

* * *

'I'll never look at buffalo wings the same way again,' whispered Rachel huskily.

'Me neither,' said Finn morosely.

'I _know_it's cruel and they're farmed in the most inhumane conditions - chickens, I mean, not buffalo. B-but maybe buffalo, too. But you're such a man, Finn Hudson. You tore into that challenge like Javert-'

'Like a python. Or whichever the one is that opens its jaw ten miles wide,' muttered Finn. 'That one.'

Rachel moved across his bed, and nuzzled his ear seductively. 'Finn Hudson, you're my hero.'

'And the _look_in his eyes,' whispered Finn.

Rachel pulled back. 'Finn, I'm trying to—create something here. What are you talking about?'

'Blaine.'

She gaped. 'You're thinking about _Blaine_ while I'm giving myself, body and soul, to you?' She sat back, crossing her arms. 'Really, Finn. I wanted to—I _need_to talk to you about something. About us.'

'Vampires don't eat chicken,' Finn mused. 'Not bloodless chicken, anyway, so he must be something else.'

'As you know, I am the lead in the school play, and Maria is not only an inspiring and defining feminine role for an ingénue such as myself but it is- It's a role about blossoming. About awakening.'

'Maybe some sort of...vampire lion?'

'It's about the cusp of young love, standing upon the edge of adulthood and the experiences that are just within their tender young grasp.' She grasped at Finn's hand and pulled it to her chest. 'Don't you want to take that leap, Finn. Jump with me, Finn!'

'What? Onto Blaine?' He paused. 'Do you think that will work?'

'What on Earth are you—Finn, are you even listening?'

'I, uh, yeah. Totally. We need to jump onto tender, young ingénues—er and—' Finn's pocket burst into life, throwing out a merry tune and stealing Finn away from Rachel's glare of anger. 'My cell's ringing.'

'Don't you change the subject when we are having a lover's tiff!' she protested.

'But my cell's ringing.' He looked at the caller display. Puck. 'Just a second. It's _important_.'

'This isn't important?'

'Rachel. Just hold that pose. One second.' He picked up the call. 'Talk to me.'

'You're so gay, Jerry Maguire.'

'Dude, Rachel's got the insults covered tonight.' Rachel glanced down, seemingly surprised to see Finn's hand still cusping at her breast. She batted it away roughly. 'What you got?'

'I found out why he's after Kurt.'

'Wait, what?' he asked, sitting up straight. 'Blaine?'

'Blaine!' said Rachel joyfully.

Finn spun around, alarmed to see Blaine standing in the doorway. '_Blaine._'

'Yeah, Blaine?' said Puck. 'Anyway, I did some digging, like super cool MI5 digging.'

Finn eyed Blaine warily as he moved into the room and began to _ohh_ and _ahh_over Rachel's plaid skirt. 'How?' he whispered, his hand curling around the television remote. One jaw unhinge around Rachel and he was going to get a mouthful of cheap plastic.

'No time for that dull exposition crap,' Puck said. 'Listen! It's like, did you see Benjamin Button?'

'No!' sneered Finn. 'Who's the gay one, now?' Blaine looked up at that, mid French plaiting Rachel's hair, and the fire in his gaze made Finn almost shrink back. Almost, because Puck was onto something. Maybe something that would stop him once and for all.

'Shut up! It was totally great. You know how he gets younger?'

'No?'

'This is a bad example. Peter Pan!'

'He's a paedo?' Well. That would explain the dress sense.

'No, no. Like… oh, Lost Boys! That's it! Yeah, but not as badass and a bit more dated. I'm on fire tonight, Finn, whoo boy! Anyway, he's freakishly free of frown lines, not like us. And I'm certain that Kurt said he was a senior when he first went to that Eton thing.'  
Finn frowned, as if a memory was straining to be found in his mind. 'That does sound familiar.'

'So I Googled and I—'

'You _Googled_?' Finn interrupted

'Dude, stop killing the tension.'

'But what would you even type into the search engine to—'

'Shut up! Look, I came across all freaky stuff, but mostly stuff about these killings, Finn. Killings all across America, every seven years.'

'He's Jeepers Creepers!' whispered Finn into the phone. Blaine didn't react, didn't give him any indication he had heard, as he whispered into Rachel's ear and she giggled coquettishly.

'Not really, but kinda. All these gay men who died were aged 15-21, all totally lame ass virgins that hadn't a chance in hell of getting laid.'

'Oh, that—that sucks?'

'Yeah, but before they died, right? They all got boyfriends. Like out of their league, total dream boaty and sexy boyfriends. That sounds like someone we both know right?'

'Hey, you're being a little unfair, there. And I wouldn't exactly say he was sex—'

'So, these virgins? They were found, like, all super old and dusty. Like they had aged sixty years over night. And the devastated boyfriend?' He snapped his fingers. 'Gone. Never to be seen again.'

Finn watched as Blaine spun his girlfriend round the room, reciting lines from _West Side Story_and eyes on anywhere but him. 'But how does any of that prove—'

'Sadie Hawkins 2004,' said Puck. 'The last one has a picture of the missing virgin and his Sadie Hawkins date.' He swallowed. 'Finn, the kid in the picture was Blaine. '

Finn gripped the cell tight, and tried to keep his voice even. 'What are you telling me, here?'

'That we need to keep Kurt away from this fuck until we figure out how to gank him. He must be doing some sort of crazy, incubus like, youth sucking-' Puck paused. 'Sorry, I just got overwhelmed with, like, a thousand jokes.'

'Puck!'

'Yeah, sorry. Anyway. We need to keep them apart.' Puck made a clucking noise. 'Maybe I should de-virginise him. Kurt, I mean. Maybe that will do the trick?'

'What the—'

'No need to thank me. Just trying to help out.'

'Yeah, I don't think that-' Finn turned to Rachel and Blaine, and was pleased to see that Blaine had finally slunk out. Good. 'I don't think Kurt will go for that somehow.'

'He has eyes, doesn't he?' Puck's voice lowered. 'Eyes sort of like the Pacific ocean. Like waves washing sweetly over an ivory shore in the calm of morning.'

'What?'

'I'm saying I can bang him for you. Get him off Blaine's radar. I can be over in about forty minutes. Put him in those tight, black jeans with the low waist and that _Flashdance _shirt thing he has. You know, the one that shows off the curve of his neck.'

'I'm not pimping my brother out to you!'

'Wait, there's the door,' said Puck. 'Aw man, pizza nights rock!'

'I don't care about your pizza,' said Finn. 'The point is, we -' Finn moved the phone away from his ear as the clumping sound of Puck's feet on the stairs sang out. A door squeaked open.

'Hey, man—wait-' gasped Puck. 'What are you-'

The call dropped.

Finn pulled his cell away and stared at it in confusion. He hit redial. The line rang out.

* * *

'—And then, and then I was thinking that if I bend over like so—like, _this_, Finn, and then,' Rachel gave a little shake of her rear and looked at him from between her knees, 'do that. It's not too _provocative_is it?'

'I, uh, it seems to be a rather eccentric rendition of _My Heart Will Go On_. I'm not sure that Mr. Schue will go for it for Sectionals. And all that finger sucking is making the lyrics a bit hard to understand.' Finn tried to keep his focus on his girlfriend, but his entire being was fused with worry for Puck. Why wasn't he answering? Had something happened?

'Finn,' Carole's voice called upstairs. 'Door!'

Finn leapt up at the sound of her voice. 'I'll just be a sec—_mmmph_.' Rachel's lips smacked into his, and her fingers twined deep into his hair as her tongue dug roughly into his mouth. The kiss was long, deep and dirty. He blinked as she pulled away, her eyes all hooded and eyelashes blinking rapidly.

'Hurry back, lover,' she whispered.

He nodded dumbly, starting in fright when she slapped at his rear hard. _Man,_ he thought as he made his way down the stairs,_ girls are so hard to read sometimes. _

'Who is it?' Finn asked as he reached the bottom step. 'Because I got totally super impo—' His words died off as his mother moved aside to show Puck at the doorway. 'Wait? How did—'

'I took a short cut!' Puck grinned widely. 'I was just talking to your charming, younger sister here.' He winked and Carole swatted him on his arm with an affectionate giggle.

'Now, now, Puck. Let's not start that again.' She shot Finn a look, and then moved forward conspiratorially. 'I think about that night _all_the time. Such prowess, such animal magnetism, such surprising flex—'

'Mom?' Finn interrupted. 'Could you go fix us a snack?'

'What? Oh, sure, honey.' Carole blushed, and straightened. Patting at her hair self-consciously, she smiled at Puck and waggled her fingers as she went.

Once she was gone, Finn turned back to Puck and appraised him silently.

'I- you've gelled your mohawk back?'

Puck nodded, a sombre expression on his face. 'Affirmative, dear friend. A gentleman should always dress dapper, shouldn't he?'

'Is that a suit? Have your ironed _creases_into the trousers?'

'Thank you for noticing! It's actually a permanent crease. I would be most happy to enlighten you on how to do this. First, we will need a block of wood, a wet cloth and-' At that moment, Kurt flounced past, laundry basket in his hands. 'A good day to you, Kurt!' said Puck cheerily.

'Don't start, you sarcastic dick,' muttered Kurt.

Puck shook his head. 'Most unedifying. And rather uncalled for.'

'It was a bit called for,' said Finn, scowling. Looking at Kurt warily, Finn turned back to Puck. 'Uh, wanna play GTA? Upstairs, I mean. Where we can talk? _Alone_.'

Puck pinched his nose. 'Mr. Hudson, I can't believe you would expect me to partake in something which promotes violence.' Puck shook his head. 'I was actually thinking that we could get a head start on that Calculus test? E to the X, am I right, Finn?'

'Uh, whatever,' Finn turned on his heel. 'Just come on.'

* * *

Finn's bedroom was decked out in flowers, carnations on the nightstand, rose petals strewn across the bed and the floor. The distinct scent of vanilla and jasmine wafted on the air, the candles casting a soft glow on the walls.

He grinned. 'Rachel, you're perfect.'

'A-are you sure? I couldn't decide on roses or carnations, so I chose both. And I picked vanilla because I know you like cake.'

He took her by the waist. 'Man, these candles will really help us brainstorm on what to do with Blaine. Thanks, babe. Go wait downstairs and hang out with Kurt for ten.'

'But-'

'And if you could make a cake, that'd be _awesome_,' he called after her as she slammed the door shut. He turned to Puck, who had raised an eyebrow. 'What?'

'Are you being cruel to be kind?'

'What the what now?'

'It's a little ironic, isn't it? Only instead of rosemary and pansies, she offers you roses.'

'Dude, a little less flowers, a little more explanation, please.'

'About what?' asked Puck.

'About Blaine!' he exploded.

'Blaine?' said Puck, taking off his glasses (why he was wearing glasses, Finn did not know). He breathed on them a little, then began to polish them with his shirt. 'What can I say? What should I attest? That he's a fine and upstanding fellow? Of course, of course I can do that.

'Why, the mere melody of his voice - that cadence, you get me? - it makes me want to suddenly and inexplicably do a backflip.' He leant forward, his tone severe. 'I want to do that backflip very, very slowly, Finn. Even if it doesn't go with the rhythm of the song, at all.'

'Monster,' Finn gasped. 'You may as well clap out of time.'

Puck nodded. 'Perhaps. Perhaps.'

'Dude, what the hell is going on with you?'

'I can't for the life of me think what you mean.' Puck began to position the items on Finn's desk to stylish tilts.

'You asked Kurt to join our book group! We don't even have a freaking book group!'

'And that, my friend, is a shame. I say we start one straight away! I also move to motion that we begin with _Chocolat_by Joanne Harris. It's a charming tale about a quaint, insular village in—'

'Oh, my God, shut up!' Finn groaned. 'I don't want to talk about stupid chick books—'

'Sexist,' Puck tutted.

'—I want to talk about how to stop Blaine from sexing up my brother and, like, eating him or whatever.'

Puck frowned. 'And why on Earth would you want to do that? Blaine and Kurt are perfect together, Finn. Perfect.'

A chill so strong and brutal hit Finn squarely in the base of his spine. 'No, no,' he moaned. 'You—he got to you.'

'Whom?'

'You know who!' Finn hissed. 'You've been blainewashed!'

* * *

Finn couldn't take watching Puck alphabetise his Playstation collection any longer. He stormed from his room, slamming the door as Rachel had done-

_Uh-oh. I bet she slammed it because she was angry. _

-He needed to clear his head, maybe if he just talked to Kurt, explained everything he could get him to see, to understand. He paused at the entrance to the basement when he heard Kurt and Rachel talking in a conspiratorial whisper.

'—Can be block headed sometimes,' Kurt was saying, his tone airy and dismissive.

'I know we aren't friends at the moment, Kurt, but I miss you so much and—I just _really_need a friend right now,' Rachel answered. 'It's—Finn. I think that I'm ready and I just don't know...'

Finn bit at his lip and turned as if to go. It would really suck if he were to hear something about himself, something that was horrible. But his feet didn't seem to care about that, and remained rooted to the spot.

'You mean—er, you mean for _it_?'

It? Fuck, was Blaine Pennywise? Again, it would explain the dress sense.

'Yes, that. I know that Finn is the one, in my heart of hearts, I know it's him,' she sighed heavily. 'Have you and Blaine, have you—'

There was a silence, and Finn's cheek found itself resting against the cool surface of the door.

'Actually,' Kurt's voice edged out, higher than usual and a coyness underlying it. 'I think—he's asked me to go to this club with him tomorrow night. _Scandals?_ And afterwards—he—' A giggle now, bubbly and filled with nerves. 'He's booked a hotel room. _Holiday Inn.' _

'That flashy douche!' gasped Finn.


	3. Chapter 3

**There's Something Wrong With Blaine  
Chapter 3**

Kurt's hand reached out uncertainly as he sought for the wash cloth to clear the soapy liquid from his eyes.

'Here you are, dude.' Finn placed it into his hand with a kind smile. 'You want me to loofah your back?' He screwed his eyes shut as Kurt screamed, possibly shattering every window within a five-mile radius.

'Get out! Get out!' Kurt stumbled backwards, covering his groin and shoving his arm out in an attempt to find Finn. 'What is _wrong_with you?'

'Geez, you're the one always saying we should spend time together!' Finn crossed his arms, feeling a little hurt.

'Not when I'm in the shower, Finn!' Kurt wiped at his eyes furiously. '_Why are you still here?_'

'I'm just looking out for you-'

'This is getting out of control! First I wake up to find you watching me sleep with that ridiculous stick in your hand-'

'Stake. It was a stake-'

'Then you actually try and bring in that video recorder-'

'It's called compromising. I told you, I need it for an art project-'

'_What _art project?' asked Kurt, suspicion lacing his voice.

'Um, it's called, uh, Fact-Based Evidence and Dali Elephants on Freaky Stick Legs and Stuff?'

'Right. And now this?' Kurt's expression softened for a moment. Turning, mindful of keeping himself covered, he switched off the shower. 'Finn, what is it? Is there something wrong? Are you,' he swallowed thickly, 'perhaps _confused_-'

Finn was confused all right, confused as to what the hell Blaine Anderson wanted with his brother. And he was going to do what he could to keep him safe. Which meant not leaving his side all day. And tasting his food first (it wasn't his fault he'd had to taste _all_ that delicious burger) and making sure he went nowhere near that _Holiday Inn_this evening.

'- lots of teenage boys, you're not alone, Finn. Never think that.'

'Kurt,' said Finn, severely.

'Yes?'

'Are you having a _cold_shower?'

Kurt glanced down, and back up again with a stare that could wither a meadow. '_Get out, get out, get out!'_

* * *

Following Kurt around school proved no easy task. For one, he was like a goddamn chipmunk o r_something_, diving through hedgerows and ducking behind lockers whenever he suspected Finn might be following him. Finn's back ached from having to spend so long crouching, and his head ached from stumbling into several impromptu duets between Rachel and Kurt, especially when the 11am break signaled their daily Tina Turner Tribute Time.

And then there was the issue of Blaine, who kept suggesting games of I Spy which always began with the letter F, except that one time when the answer was Human Eiffel Tower. As days went, it pretty much sucked. But Finn didn't mind. He could bare it for as long as possible if it meant that it stopped Kurt getting cannibalised or whatever. He looked at his watch with a sigh. Finally, this had to be longest French lesson in the world. He hadn't been able to keep an eye on Kurt during that fretful hour; he'd been turfed out of the class months ago when he'd realised he kept channelling Pepe le Pew and no amount of explaining had convinced Mme. Hadida that he didn't mean it.

'Hey, Mercedes, have you seen Kurt?' asked Finn as Kurt's class let out.

'Oh, he's gone home sick.' She shrugged her backpack strap over her shoulder. 'He went at the start of second period. He hasn't texted you?'

Finn paled. 'No! Did - did he eat anything?'

'In class?'

Finn bit his lip. 'Right, nobody normal would do that.' He shoved the Twinkie in his pocket further down. 'So he didn't mention my art project, right?'

Mercedes frowned. 'No?'

'Oh, good.'

'You know what he did say, though,' said Mercedes. 'He's sick of you stalking him. Finn, if you need to talk, you can talk to me, or Tina, or even Mike. We don't get to say much when Berry's around, but we do care about you. And you're not yourself lately, if you don't mind me saying.'

Finn could not stop trembling. 'I have to go now.' He pushed past Mercedes and sprinted towards the door.

'It's not like we didn't already suspect it!' she shouted after him. 'Finn, you can't run away from yourself forever. Finn, did you hear me?'

'Loud and clear!' he called back over his shoulder.

'Damned straight,' said Mercedes happily. 'Even Rachel can't hit those high notes.'

* * *

Finn dropped his head onto his steering wheel with a groan. Kurt was nowhere. Not at home, or the garage, or the Lima Bean or even at Elegant Locks getting that gigantic, gravity defying coiff done. He had exhausted his options and it was nearly nightfall. Soon Blaine the Pain would be taking him to his almost certain death. And that certain death would no doubt be soundtracked by Abba. With a defeated sigh, Finn realised he had no choice but to head to Columbus and hope Blaine kept to his plan.

Calling it up on his GPS, Finn keyed in the details to find _Scandals_.

* * *

Finn liked to be prepared for going undercover, and he'd borrowed Kurt's _LGBT Guide to Ohio_to find out what he should wear to Scandals. Lima had only two entries, and the first of them was The Lima Bean, so he discounted that.

_Scandals_, said the book, _is the height of sophistication in a town with no less than seven Arbys. As fashionable as Liza Minnelli's wardrobe, your trilby hats and skinny jeans will be as welcome here as a remake of Singing in the Rain._

Finn didn't own a pair of skinny jeans (he just didn't have the hips for them) , but he did have a hat. He rummaged around in his closet until he pulled out a crumpled hunting hat. He'd bought it for a trip he'd taken with Burt to the Rockies last fall. Finn felt a pang of guilt: Kurt had been so jealous, but he wouldn't have liked it. He had his own friends, anyway.

Finn sighed. _Like Blaine. I've driven Kurt into the arms of a psychopath._

He pulled the hat on and glared at himself in the mirror. He'd do this, for Kurt. He'd even try one of those pretentious, cosmopolitan drinks they recommended in Kurt's guide. Like a Cosmopolitan.

'Nice hat,' said the guy at the door of Scandals.

'Thanks,' said Finn. He entered the club and kept his eyes peeled for Kurt or Blaine. They had to be here somewhere. He trawled through the bar twice, skirting around the people dancing, before sighing and dropping down in a booth. Taking a sip of his root-beer, Finn noticed the amorous couple making out next to him. A very familar couple.

'Santana?' gasped Finn, shooting off a quick snap and then putting his phone away. 'Brittany? What the hell are you doing here?'

'Oh, you know,' said Santana, barely suppressing her rage. 'We thought we'd escape from the wanky fantasies of the _boys_at McKinley, but thank God that you're here to keep us from any privacy once again.'

'Man,' said Finn. 'Are you ever gonna get over that?'

Santana narrowed her eyes. 'Shouldn't you be wandering around trying to figure out the meaning of your blundering existence, Holden?'

'Fine, I'm not gonna buy you a drink now.'

Brittany frowned. 'My drink has an umbrella but it's still wet.'

Santana folded her arms. 'What you didn't tell us is what _you're _doing here, pervert.'

'I was just curious-'

'I knew that Berry had to a beard. She's practically the female Humm- _oh, my God_- are you in love with Kurt?'

'No! I am not in love with Kurt. Are you crazy?'

'I'm not the one who wandered in with a paunch. I mean, look at how embarrassing you are in your lumberjack shirt! Could you step away from us, please? Your earnest disregard for relevance could be catching.' She turned to Brittany. 'He's wearing sneakers!'

'Yeah, yeah, fine. I get it, I'm nothing. Now tell me, have you seen Kurt? _I need him._He's going to sleep with that douche and make the biggest mistake of his life, and I have to stop it!' Finn considered. 'Okay, I concede that sounded like I was in love with Kurt. But I'm totally not. I like boobs.'

Brittany raised her glass to that.

Santana smiled. 'Boobs _are_awesome. I suppose that's why you're-'

'Trying to grow a pair of my own, I know, I know.' He held his hands up. 'Look, just forget it, okay? I'm outta here.'

'But why don't you just ask Blaine?' said Brittany.

'I _would _if I could find him!'

'He's here, I saw him before.'

'Why didn't you tell me!' Finn snarled.

Brittany shrugged. 'You didn't care about my drink getting wet, so I don't care about that.' She considered. 'Do you want the umbrella? It won't keep you dry, but it'll brighten up your hat.'

'You don't understand. I think there's something totally up with that guy. I'm almost certain that he is going to take Kurt's virginity tonight and, then like, bite off his head.'

Santana nodded. 'Sounds legit.'

'So you'll help me find them?'

'Might as well ruin his night, since mine is now a bust.'

'Thanks, Santana, that's so- I think I see him! There!' Leaping up, Finn began to chase after the shiny black helmet hair making its way through the crowd. Santana and Brittany followed.

'Come-_oof!_' Finn's chest collided with a solid body and he hit the ground with a thud. He winced rubbing at his chest. Something about that body slam had felt weirdly familiar.

'Oh, man! I am so sorry! I didn't see- _Finn Hudson_?'

'Karofsky?' Finn stared up in surprise at the other boy, who looked like he was being eating alive by denium.  
'What are you doing here? Are you stalking Kurt or something? Dude, that's really creepy!" Santana cleared her throat. 'I mean, when _you_do it, that is.'

'No no, I'm here because- I'm- well, the thing is-'

Realisation dawned on Finn. 'What? You mean you, too? Is this an epidemic?'

Karofsky blushed, sending glares towards Santana and Brittany before dragging Finn to his feet. 'You say a word about this, Hud-'

'Have you seen Kurt?' Finn grabbed him by the shoulders. 'Have you?'

'Yeah, he was here earlier, but he left with that douche and- why are you hugging me?'

'I knew I wasn't alone! He's such a douche, isn't he? And- can you take your hand off my butt?'

Karofsky sighed. 'Geez, all right.' He raised an eyebrow. 'Why are you looking for Kurt, anyway?'

'Because we gots to slap Kurt, chase Blaine out of town and get you some fashion sense.'

'No no and no, Santana,' said Finn tersely. 'We have to rescue Kurt, my clothes are fine but yeah, we need to get Blaine to leave town or something.'

'I signed up for all three things. Not one.'

'You didn't sign up for anything! You just jumped on board when I said I was going to stop Blaine from destroying the world, and you and Britanny kept talking about umbrellas and you were mean - as usual - and then you ageed to help me save Kurt from Blaine so it'll be okay.'

'Even your stories where I appear are washed-out. Congratulations, you've failed at yet another task.' She flipped her hair over her shoulder. 'Look, Knuckles, Blaine's like this total serial killer tooth fairy thing or something and if we don't stop him he is going to Jigsaw Kurt to death. You follow?'

Karofsky shook his head. 'Not even a little.'

'There's a good chance you might see Kurt naked.'

'We have to hurry,' Karofsky grabbed hold of Santana's hand and began dragging her towards the exit. 'There's not much time!'

'Karofsky's right,' said Finn. 'We need to find that Holiday Inn before it's too late! Plus, it's a school night and I have a massive day ahead of me tomorrow outting all of you, now can we just go?'

* * *

'How many Holiday Inns are there in a dive like this!' snarled Santana.

'This is the final one,' said Finn. 'Beau Tye Drive, 45801.'

Karofsky laughed. 'You're kidding.'

Santana stared at Finn. 'Why didn't we try this place first?'

'Starr Kydd drive sounded more _him_, I dunno.' He pushed her away. 'Could you turn around, please? I can't park when you're staring at me.'

Santana rolled her eyes, but she did as he asked.

'Look at the moon!' Finn said, parking across three lanes. 'Look at the size of it. That can't be good, just look at it! Come on!' He unsnapped his belt and practically flew out of the car, the others at his heels.

Brittany placed a hand on Santana's arm as they walked to the hotel. 'Santana, I think Finn might be a moth.' She bit her lip. 'A giant moth.'

Santana clasped her hand. 'We'll talk about it later, Brits. I promise.'

'I mean, the moon and then he found the right hotel. Did you ever see _The Mothman Prophecies_? How did he know, Santana? How did he know?'

As they entered the lobby, they were startled to see it was in darkness. There was no concierge at the front desk. There were no people around.

Santana frowned. 'Is this place even open?'

Finn glanced at the register. 'Yes. Blaine Anderson signed it at 9.11- and 34 seconds.' He scowled. 'He's _so_particular! What a douche!' He straightened up. 'Right, guys. He's in room-666. Man, this place has a lot of rooms. Let's go.'

They had to take the stairs as the elevator wasn't working. Even the staircase was in darkness - Finn used his cellphone to light the way. Brittany shrieked in horror (just a little bit louder than Karofsky) when they reached the first floor and the light hit some bats who had been hanging from the chandelier there. The bats burst from the doorway in alarm and flew off around them.

'What's next?' gasped Santana. 'A rollercoaster?'

'I call shotgun!' said Brittany.

Santana tightened her grip on Brittany's hand. 'Come on!'

They clambered up the next four flights of stairs, with Karofsky stopping every so often to 'take in the view - no, I'm not having an asthma attack, you dicks!' and Brittany doing a victory dance when she beat them all to the top, then hanging her head in shame when she realised she'd beat them to the 12th floor and had to come back down again.

'Here!' Santana stopped outside room 666. 'You ready?'

'As I'll ever be.' Finn took a deep breath, looking to the others who stared back at him with a mixture of curiosity and a growing sense of fear.

'Maybe we should call the police?' said Karofsky. 'I mean- if you think this Blaine is all that bad.'

'I don't-' A loud wracking sob sounded from the other side of the door and Finn's words died in his throat. _Kurt_. He threw himself at the door, but it didn't budge. His companions helped him out, pushing and kicking at the door fearfully, and eventually it gave.

'Oh my,' breathed Brittany. 'I want to stay here next time I'm on vacation.'

The bedroom didn't so much resemble a sensibly-priced, staid room, but something macabre. There was a white marble altar with a silver chalice proudly atop it, surrounded by candles. There was so many candles around the room, on the television set, a humble chair, placed carefully on the ugly carpets, that the room blazed with light. The bed was draped in velvet cloth, and along the walls, in red paint (at least, Finn hoped it was paint) pentagrams and Latin phrases had been daubed. In the midst of it, sat a nude Kurt, shoulders bent and head in his hands as he sobbed heavily.

'Is that an _altar_?' gasped Santana.

Brittany shook her head. 'No, he's a counter-tenor.'

'Kurt! Kurt are you okay?' Finn ran to him, taking off his jacket to coat it around Kurt's naked frame. 'What happened?'

'Blaine- he-he-' Kurt choked through his tears. 'I thought we had something special!'

'Just tell us what happened," said Santana, with surprising gentleness.

'Everything was perfect- uh- and we came here and it was all so lovely-'

'Really?' asked Karofsky. 'That beheaded rabbit didn't kill the moment or anything?'

'-and romantic! And then we began kissing and we began to take off our clothes-'

'Kurt, you need to tell us absolutely everything.' Karofsky removed a pen and notepad from his jacker. 'Be specific.'

'But then- but then-'

'Yes, yes, your butt?'

'Will you keep out of this, Karofsky!' Finn gave Kurt's shoulder's a little squeeze. 'You were saying. Your butt?'

'But then he just got so angry! He said it was all wrong and we couldn't do it and he _knew_! I don't know how! _But he knew I wasn't a virgin!_"

Finn nodded. Once. Twice. Then stood up and punched Karofsky in the mouth.

'What the hell was that for?' Karofsky yelled, covering his bloodied lips.

'Process of elimination!'

'No no! It wasn't Karofsky! Are you insane?' Kurt wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. 'It was Brittany, okay.'

Santana blinked. Once. Twice. Then turned and punched Karofsky in the side of the head.

'What the fuck!'

'Oh, like I'm going to hit Brits or Snagglepuss over here.'

'So- I guess that means we're safe? From Blaine.' Finn grinned. 'That's awesome! I totally saved the day.'

'Oh, no no. Don't you try and take this away from Brittany.' Santana hugged the other girl tight. 'This is all her.'

'What is wrong with you people!' snapped Kurt. 'I'm sitting here with a broken heart!'

'Trust us.' Finn gave him a pat. 'It could have been worse. A lot worse.'

'But wait.' Karofsky tapped at his lip. 'You said that Blaine is this weird succubus or incubus thing and needs to devirginalise someone in order to be immortal, yeah? And that it _has_to be tonight. So he's going to be searching for someone. Someone ready and willing. Kurt, you got his number on you or-'

'You're right! We should find him before-' Finn's cell blasted into life and he pulled it from his pocket with a frown. 'Rachel, this better be important!'

'I give up, Finn Hudson! I give up! I offered myself to your arms time and time again, and yet you chose not to take our relationship to our next level! Instead, you let it languish on the proverbial shelf of puppy love!'

'Rachel, can this wait? I'm sort of busy combatting evil right now.' Finn rolled his eyes at Karofsky. Who winked back. With a frown, Finn turned a way. 'How about I drop by when I'm done. You can tell me all about Bob Fussy, or whatever.'

'Fosse! It's Bob Fosse! See, that's it right there. You never listen to my needs or wants! Well, I've had enough, Finn! Blaine and I-'

'What? What do you mean, Blaine and you? Is he there?'

'- are going to watch a nice movie and eat our combined weight in ice cream-'

'You have to get out! Rachel! He is totally going to drown you in Häagen-Dazs or something!'

Kurt lifted up his head. 'Rachel has Häagen-Dazs?'

'-and not think about _you_, Finn Hudson!' With a sniff, she terminated the call.

'Blaine, he's with Rachel.' Finn shook his head. 'We have to get to her!'

'But she should be fine, right?' Brittany shrugged. 'Didn't she do it with Jesse? And she's a girl.'

'No, she didn't! She just said she did because- I forget- but she never did it with me either and Blaine's desperate! He'll do anything right now!'

'Hey!' snapped Kurt.

'But seriously, what's his number?' asked Karofsky.

'Come on!' Santana slammed a fist into her palm. 'We'd better hurry. Rachel's _extremely_nubile! It's only a matter of time!'

Brittany pouted. 'Nubile sounds like you think she's sexy.'

'I won't have this conversation again, Brits!'

'We had a conversation?'

'In my head.' Santana considered. 'Right, let's get going! Come on, Finn!'

'Okay, I'm go- Kurt, you may want to put on some pants?'

'Hey!' snapped Karofsky. You're not the boss of him!'

* * *

Finn slid across the bonnet, half because of his panic and hurry, the other because it looked cool and he had always wanted to do that. Brittany gave a little clap, and he was glad. He was still kind of glowing about it as they hurtled down the freeway and through the night, coming to a screeching halt at Rachel's house.

'It's nearly midnight,' said Santana. 'I've seen enough low budget horrors to know that this isn't good.'

'Finn, could you have taken the corners more gently?' asked Kurt. 'Karofsky kept flying into me.'

Finn frowned into the rear-view mirror. 'I didn't take any corners?' Shoving open the door, he glanced up at Rachel's house, a sense of foreboding falling over him. Rachel had to be okay. She had to be. He felt an hand on his arm and he turned to find Santana glancing up at him. He gave her a firm nod, gulping strongly as he made his way up the path.

'This is creepy,' whispered Karofsky. 'And I thought the kid was creepy before I knew about the whole evil monster type thing.'

The door was ajar. An unpleasant jolt crashed through him, but he swallowed his fear down. He had to finish this. She'd be okay. Distantly, under the frantic beat of his heart, he could hear the dulcet tones of Barry White.

'Hello, Finn,' said Blaine from the sofa. He ran his hand along the armrest. 'I wondered when you would show up.' A shaft of light fell across his inscrutable dark eyes as he smirked.

For his part, Finn stood frozen with fear. He was grateful when he heard footsteps behind him and his friends gathered around, staring at Blaine.

'I see you bought friends. Oh, hello, Kurt.' Blaine's face changed into one of abject sorrow. 'I am so sorry that our love was not to be.'

'Ritual sacrifice tends not to turn me on,' said Kurt.

'I'm quite flexible, however,' added Karofsky.

Finn glanced around rhe room, his jaw tight. 'Where is she, you bastard?'

'Who, me?' Rachel entered the room, a glass in one hand and a cigar in the other. She wore a sheer babydoll, that barely knew where her knees were and her hair hung round her in rumpled waves.

Finn snapped off a quick photo, then shoved his phone in his pocket. 'You bastard!' he said again.

'Could you forward me that?' whispered Santana, then louder; 'Yeah, you son of a bitch!'

'I am so glad you could all be here to witness my final triumph.' He smiled up at Rachel as she filled up his goblet with a thick red liquid. 'It has been a long road but I am finally here. I am finally strong enough to succeed.'

'You killed all those boys,' said Finn. 'And then turned them into like mummies!'

Brittany frowned. 'I'm pretty sure that's not biologically possible, Finn.'

'I see you've done your research. And quite right, too. I needed their youth, you see. Their innocence. They have sustained me for centuries.' He looked wistful. 'The ninties was a particularly good period. Lots of boybands.' He considered them with a tilted head. 'You must be wondering why? What was it all for? Power. Control. Isn't that what everything is for. The human race is weak. It needs a leader, a_real_leader and thanks to Rachel here, it now has one.'

'This can't be good.' Santana gripped Finn's arm. 'He's soliloquising.'

'Oh, God, is she going to turn like all the others? Be all fossilised and dead?' Finn looked at Rachel in horror, waiting for the change to settle over her in any second.

Blaine shook his head. 'No no. You see this time? This time it's different. Because my work is done. I'm strong enough now.' He held up the goblet and raised a toast to them. 'I had hoped that it would be Kurt that would rule beside me, but alas, that is not to be. Rachel will reign in his steed.'

'Oh, come on!' Kurt huffed crossing his arms. 'Taking all the solos and class presidency, isn't enough? Now she has to steal me- steal my- wait, what is she going to reign over?'

Rachel giggled, slipping down beside Blaine and curling into his side. 'Everything, Kurt. _Everyone_.'

'What's that noise?' whispered Brittany, staring at the ceiling where cracks jig-sawed across the plaster in a furious speed.

'It is time,' said Blaine. 'It is time.'

'The ground!' yelled Karofsky. 'The ground is- it's _cracking_.' Sure enough, below their feet the carpet began to rip and tear as floorboards flung themselves upward in a burst of splinters and nails. Karofsky clambered to stay up right but the motion was too strong and with a final scream of horror, he fell through the hole that was now tearing across the room.

Finn grabbed Kurt's arm and ran for the door, Santana and Brittany close behind. 'Quick, we have to-' A beam crashed down in front of them, blocking their exit. All around them Finn could hear cackling below the screams and sobs of his friends. Turning, his arms wrapped around a shaking Kurt, he glanced down to where Karofsky had fallen. Red. Heat. Flames. Yawning up towards him, clutching for him, wanting him. With terror-filled eyes, he raised his stare to meet Blaine's.

And screamed and screamed and screamed...

* * *

Finn sat up with a shout, sweat pooling across his back and forehead. _What the fuck was that?_

He glanced around as his heart slowed down to a gentler pace, nearly collapsing with relief when he realised he was in bed, and safe and sound. 'Oh, my God, it was just a dream!' He gave a shaky laugh, swinging his trembling legs from the bed. That had been a hell of a nightmare. And about_Blaine_of all people! He really had to stop eating so much Velveeta before bed.

The waves of relief which crashed through Finn as he shaved and brushed his teeth and did all that manly stuff were immense. This was better than that time Mr. Jones had a heart attack during the algebra test and they were all sent home and then offered counselling at that place right next door to McDonald's. The sun was shining outside, and there were no bats or Santana or cannibalistic pagan Scientologist rituals, and they were going to sing One Direction songs in Glee club today. Man, being Finn _ruled_.

He entered the kitchen, singing happily. The song died on his lips as he realised with a start that Blaine was already here. A trickle of fear sparked down his spine and he shook his head, harshly. Come on, this was _Blaine._He saved baby flies, for God's sake.

'Morning!' Finn said, taking a seat opposite Blaine, relieved that Kurt was there washing a plate at the sink. "You're here early.'

'I came to pick up Kurt. We have tickets for Cats. Don't we, Kurt?'

Kurt gave a small smile and then ducked his head down, pouring coffee into the waiting mugs.

'Dude, I had the weirdest dream about you. It was totally nuts.' Finn laughed, filling his glass up with orange juice. 'You were like this demon from hell thing. And then you and Rachel totally did it and it destroyed, like, the world!''

Blaine's smile widened, his teeth all on show and he joined in with the laughter. 'Really?'

'Really!' Finn nodded. 'It was totally bizarre.'

'You ate a tub of Velveeta before bedtime again, didn't you?' said Kurt disapprovingly.

'Me, as a demon from hell! Should I be flattered that you were dreaming of me or upset that you think bow ties are the mark of the Antichrist?' He glanced up at Kurt who appeared at the table with his coffee cup. 'Thanks, Kurt.'

'It's okay!' Kurt whispered as he placed it down onto the table, before stepping back and folding his arms across his chest.

The light dimmed in the kitchen; the sun had gone behind the clouds again. Finn thought he heard a faint rumble of thunder. He couldn't help the vague feeling of unease which crept along his spine, raising the hairs at the back of his neck. He frowned at Blaine.

Blaine's stare was preoccupied, however, on the cup in front of him. Frowning, he reached out and settled his hands around the rim. His eyes flicked up to meet Finn's, and then his lips quirked into the smallest of smiles, before setting into a grim line. He lifted the cup, pushing the coaster to one side.

Holding Finn's gaze solemnly, he placed the hot cup on to the table.

**The End**


End file.
